


At Long Last, Stony

by juniperhoot



Series: The Long Balls Trilogy-verse [1]
Category: Avengers, Captain America, Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Crack, M/M, Oral Sex, Science Bros, Snarky Tony, Virgin Steve Rogers, ball jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1526696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperhoot/pseuds/juniperhoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, man of voracious sexual appetite.  Tony has never been shy about initiating things with anyone, at least til now, but... Steve Rogers is different.  He’s freakin’ Captain America, for starters.  He’s wholesome and sincere and patriotic and virtuous and honorable, and everything cynical asshole Tony Stark is not.   </p><p>Plus, there's that little matter of Tony's old man balls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Long Last, Stony

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the product of prompts from ridiculous people. I blame them.

Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, man of voracious sexual appetite.  His tendency to pick up bombshells wherever he goes is a regular staple of media gossip.  What the journalists have missed - or chosen not to report - are his conquests of the less obvious sort.  That is to say, Tony Stark is a sexually opportunistic being.  The way he sees it, if someone is hot, human, and breathing, he isn’t going to say no, based on the parts involved.  And honestly, the _human_ clause is negotiable, because when an attractive, well-muscled demigod stops by, it pays to maintain a policy of openness.  That said, it’s not that Tony’s _always_ taking guys home with him - no, it takes a special fella to catch his eye over the clamoring throngs of ladies.  But... ever since a certain super soldier was thawed out and recruited to join the Avengers?  Strange as it may seem, these days, this notorious lothario only has eyes for Steve Rogers.  He just hasn’t found a way to broach the subject quite yet.  Tony has never been shy about initiating things with anyone, at least til now, but... Steve is different.  He’s freakin’ Captain America, for starters.  He’s wholesome and sincere and patriotic and virtuous and honorable, and everything cynical asshole Tony Stark is not.

A few days ago, on a fairly run-of-the-mill mission, he and Cap found themselves fighting side by side, and they’d exchanged a look that felt significant somehow.  On impulse, Tony invited Steve to join him for dinner and drinks later that week, and surprisingly, Steve agreed, then reminded him they still had a battle to finish.  When the day of their dinner date arrived, Tony found himself feeling surprisingly nervous, especially as the day wore on. For someone with so many notches on his bedpost, the novelty of the sensation was unsettling.

He poured himself a drink and queued up a Black Sabbath album, trying to focus his brilliant mind on yet another upgrade for his armor.  JARVIS announced a visitor on his way up, and soon fellow science genius Bruce Banner let himself into the lab.

“Hey, I just got your message… what’s this top-secret project you want me to look at?”

Without a word, Tony kept working, making a few notes before closing the file on his suit upgrades.  Polishing off his drink, he finally acknowledged his friend’s arrival.  “Hey, big guy, just the man I wanted to see.  I’ve been doing some reading on your work, and on the super soldier serum.  Fascinating stuff.  Not my usual area of expertise, strictly speaking, but it’s good to branch out occasionally.”

Bruce nodded, not quite sure where all this was leading.  “So you’re… what, working on a new super soldier serum?”

Tony shook his head and narrowed his eyes.  “Not exactly, no.  There are principles at work in that serum, though, which intrigue me.”  He grabbed a folder off the nearby table and gestured toward the door.  “I need a refill, and you could probably use a drink while we look at this.”

Drinks acquired, the science-minded pair settled into poring over the contents of the folder.  As Bruce read through the notes, Tony offered a meandering explanation.  “You and I are… men of distinction. Maturity.  We look good for our age - me especially - but still.  The years do start to take a toll.”  After a swig of whiskey, he glanced over at his friend.  “Have you ever dated a twenty-five year old?  I mean, recently? On second thought, don’t answer that.  The point is, when a guy gets to be our age, no matter how well preserved he may be, there are some telltale signs he’s been around the block a few dozen times.”

“Hang on, Tony.  Am I reading this right?  The notes here seem to indicate you’ve developed some kind of anti-aging serum?”

Tony started to nod, then shook his head.  “Well… it’s a bit more focused in terms of its application.  Just keep reading.”

Bruce read a bit further, then turned the page.  With a start, he closed the folder, and stood up. “Wow.” He crossed the room to look out the window, then asked, “What the hell did I just look at?” 

“That was probably a picture of my balls.  Should I have warned you?  You’re not… angry… are you?”

"Why did you… no.  I’m not angry.  I’m completely baffled as to why you are talking to me about dating twenty-five year olds, and developing some kind of anti-aging serum, and showing me pictures of your fucking old man balls, Tony.  But no.  I’m not angry.”

Tony joined his friend by the window, not even attempting to make eye contact.  “See, you called them old man balls. That’s a bit hurtful, honestly, but I’m going to rise above it, because you made my point for me.  My balls look like the balls of a much older man.  And I have a theory about that.  Not to boast, but frankly, they’ve seen a lot of action.  Gravity, and all that, uh, swaying… seems to have dragged them down.  It’s getting to the point where shorts aren’t going to be an option for me in a few years.  I’m not ready to have old man balls, especially not if I want to date a twenty-five year old.”

Bruce did his best to maintain a straight face through this increasingly ridiculous explanation, finally sighing and asking simply, “So you want to reverse the aging process… but just on your scrotum?  Because you’re having so much trouble finding dates…?”

“Are you going to help me or not?  I need your expert opinion.”  Tony had returned to his seat by the folder, flipping past the offending image to show some more notes to his friend.  “I have this two-part process, but I’m thinking there may be something I’m missing.”

Reluctantly, Bruce glanced over at the page.  “So you have an injection… and a topical application.  I would think the injection is a more efficacious delivery system for this.  Why are you even bothering with the topical application?”

Tony shifted in his seat, then muttered, “After sticking a needle in my nuts, I thought they could use some soothing?”

“Your grasp of the scientific method is clearly beyond me.” 

“Did you just euphemistically refer to my scrotum as the scientific method?  Seriously though.  Look, big guy, this is actually where your expertise comes in.  I’ve already administered a few rounds, and have seen some results - I don’t think you got to those pictures yet.  But I was thinking the topical phase could be given a little boost, with the right exposure to, say… gamma rays.” 

Bruce shook his head, firmly closing the folder.  “No. You should know better than to ask me to do that, Tony.  You know what I have to live with.  I can’t take a risk on doing that to you.”

“This is completely different.”

“I know.  Different serum, different methods, but still.  You do understand the sensitivity of--”

“Yes, Bruce, I am intimately acquainted with the sensitivity of the area in question. And I trust you understand the amount of trust I’m investing in you, in bringing you in for consultation.  Your discretion is a must."

"But..."

"I know exactly what you're thinking. And I've run the numbers. I'm ninety-nine percent certain I'm not going to end up with an enormous green ball-sack."

Resigned, Bruce reopened the folder, flipping through the pages more slowly, then pulled out a pencil and made some notes.  “I’m not saying I’m definitely on board with this, but…”

“You’ll at least consider it, right?  Take this with you, keep it absolutely secret, and let’s talk, say… next week?”

Closing the door behind his friend, Tony glanced at the clock.  He still had some shopping to do, and needed to get ready for dinner.  After cajoling his assistant Pepper into taking care of the shopping, he could focus on some quality time for grooming himself for his date.  He was making dinner for Steve, and didn’t want to overdress, but couldn’t very well wear his ratty old AC/DC t-shirt tonight.  He settled on jeans and a dark red button-down shirt with a contrasting vest and tie.  Satisfied that he looked pretty fucking great, he headed to the kitchen and rolled up his sleeves to make dinner. 

Pepper stopped by with a large shopping bag.  “Smells good in here, Tony.  And you look nice.  Expecting company?” 

“Yep.  I thought you had a thing tonight.”  He glanced meaningfully at the clock, then looked at her, expectantly. 

“Fine, be mysterious.  You’re right, I do have a thing tonight, that doesn’t involve waiting on you hand and foot.  Lucky for you, I made time to do your errands.”

JARVIS announced the arrival of another visitor, and Tony sighed and looked at Pepper.  “Not a word, just… I’ll walk you out.”

He escorted her to the door, and opened it.  Steve Rogers was standing there, waiting, holding a bottle of wine.  He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt with a navy blue cardigan over it, and his hair had the studied look of casually messy sculpting that comes with a lot of product and time spent before a mirror.  Pepper blinked for a moment, then smiled and nodded, stepping past him without a word.  Tony watched her leave, then turned his attention to his guest.  “Sorry about that.  It’s so hard to get good help these days.  Come on in.”

Steve looked around, awkwardly, as he followed Tony to the kitchen.  “I wasn’t sure if I should bring something.  This is probably not the kind of wine you’re used to, but-”

“You’re right, it’s not.  But that’s okay.  It looks like it’s a good vintage, from a respectable winery. Good choice.  It’ll go well with the pasta.”  Tony brought the food to the table, and poured out some wine.  “Here’s to you, Cap.  Another very good vintage, if you ask me.”

Steve blushed furiously, and took a sip of his wine.  They sat down to eat, and Tony began regaling him with stories of his youth, including some colorful anecdotes involving his father, Howard Stark.  He was the first to admit his upbringing was unconventional, and privileged.  In contrast, when Steve responded with tales of his youth, he spoke of a life of poor health and poverty, the loss of his parents, the Great Depression, and of course, the war.  Tony knew these things about him already, from reading his file, but hearing Steve personally relate the litany of his losses made Tony realize the depth of his own privilege.  He felt a pang of shame, and wondered whether he could possibly be worthy of a man of this caliber.  He reached out, tentatively, and placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  “Hey.  Talk to me about your art.”

The haunted look in Steve’s eyes receded as he allowed himself to think about how art had carried him through the roughest patches of his life.  “How did you…”

“It was in your file.  You went to art school.  I’d love to see your work.”

Steve smiled wistfully, then shook his head.  “Gosh, Tony.  I haven’t drawn anything lately.  I don’t even have a portfolio I could show you.  To be honest, I kind of felt like that was all… part of my past.  Not something an ‘Avenger’ messes with.”

“Well then, Mr. Martyr,” Tony picked up the shopping bag Pepper left with him.  “I don’t suppose you know anyone who’d be interested in this artsy fartsy stuff I got for you, do you?”  He pulled out a large sketchbook, and some art pencils and pens.

Steve’s eyes lit up as he reached a tentative hand toward the sketchbook, touching the fine paper within it.  “This is really good quality stuff.  I can’t…” 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “First, I’m calling bullshit.  Yes, you can.  Second, I’m not sure you realize this, but the rules of hospitality actually make it very nearly illegal for you to refuse my gift.  Look it up.  And third, of course it’s good quality.  I’m a billionaire.”  He refilled their wine glasses, then dropped the snarky tone in favor of stern sincerity.  “Listen to me, Steve.  I think you need this.  I get that you feel uprooted, like everything that really mattered was seventy years ago.  But it’s not.  You could be drawing right here and now.  You could be _living_ right here and now.  You didn’t leave everyone who cared about you back in the 1940s.  Some of us didn’t have a chance to know you then, but it doesn’t mean you don’t matter to us now.” 

“You know, your eyes really light up when you’re worked up over something.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’d… like to draw you sometime, if you’d let me.”

Tony paused mid-sip to peer over his wine glass at Steve.  “There’s no time like the present.  I don’t have anywhere I need to be.” 

Steve glanced at the pencils and sketchbook, then nodded and said quietly, “Okay, if you really want me to.”  Tentatively, he sorted the pencils, then selected one and flipped the sketchbook open to the first page.  He offered a shy smile.  “Here goes nothin’.”

Deftly, he sketched the outline of Tony’s body, a posture composed of arrogance, antagonism, and a seductive genius Steve found a little dangerous to contemplate.  He struggled to maintain some objectivity, but needed to look at his subject to draw him properly.  Every time he looked up, it seemed as though Tony’s expression and body language had clicked over another notch into the realm of the damn near obscene.  Determined to capture what he was seeing, Steve steeled his trembling hands to fill in details, outlining the smirking, filthy lips, shading the eyes to hint at Tony’s dark, blatantly sexual gaze, roughing in the utterly inappropriate arch in that eyebrow…

“How’s it coming?  Are you capturing my essence?”  Tony winked and smiled lasciviously, basking in the pink glow suffusing Steve’s cheeks. 

Steve paused, his eyes flicking back and forth as he compared his work with the man before him, then turned the sketchpad so his model could inspect it.  Tony flashed a wolfish grin as he beheld the inescapably sensual tone in his features on the page.  “Oh, will you look at that.  It’s like you were reading my thoughts that whole time.”  Steve’s cheeks flushed a darker shade of red.  Tony scooted his chair a little closer, then lowered his voice.  “So the question is… what would you think about acting on those thoughts?  Because I’ve gotta be honest with you, Steve, it’s killing me, behaving myself around you.”

Nervously, Steve set aside the drawing, wetting his lips as he met Tony’s dark, questioning gaze. Steve’s dilated pupils were crowding out the blue of his eyes, broadcasting enthusiastic interest in acting on every filthy impulse implied in his sketch.  Having received the answer he sought, Tony leaned toward Steve.  “I was hoping you’d say that.”  Their lips met, and all rational thought was quickly forgotten.  Steve’s lips explored the clean lines of Tony’s impeccable beard and moustache, then returned to claim that perfect mouth as it breathed a series of oaths and obscenities.  As they kissed, Tony began working to divest Steve of his cardigan.  “This sweater was a nice touch, by the way, Mr. Rogers.  Very sexy, in a totally inappropriate way.” 

Steve tugged at Tony’s tie, loosening it and tossing it aside.  “I don’t understand that reference, but you can explain later.”  He unbuttoned Tony’s shirt, his fingertips tracing the glowing outline of the arc reactor.  “This is amazing.”  They stumbled toward the sofa, kissing and shedding articles of clothing along the way.  Tony pushed Steve down, fumbling at the button on his jeans.  Steve placed a hand on Tony’s, stopping him.  “Hey… before we do this, you probably ought to know… I’ve never actually, um… I mean, before the serum, I didn’t have a lot of luck getting dates.  And after it, I was--”

“Too busy saving the world?”  Tony grinned and leaned in for a kiss.  “It’s okay.  You may or may not have heard, but I have a fair amount of experience in this area.  We’ll take it slowly, and you tell me if you like something or don’t.  For instance, when I kiss you here where your neck and shoulder meet…”

Steve shivered and squirmed a little.  “Your beard tickles me.”

“Is that a like or dislike?  This is for science, Captain America.”

“Yes sir.  It’s a like.  Very much a like.”

“Very good.  JARVIS, make a note of that.  Captain America likes my beard.”

“Noted.”

Steve propped up on his elbows.  “Are you gonna do that the whole time?  Have JARVIS document my responses?”

Tony shrugged, then quirked a brow.  “That depends.  Does the thought of it turn you on?”

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

Tony pressed his hips down against Steve’s, shaking his head slightly.  “Oh, I am most definitely possible.  A sure thing, in fact.”  He pulled Steve close for a kiss, then began working his way down the length of his body, kissing and licking, tasting every perfect inch of his chest and incredible abs.  He paused at the edge of Steve’s jeans.  “So… are you okay with me doing this?”  Tony’s mouth brushed over the hard outline straining against the denim, and he exhaled hot, carnal breaths as he awaited an answer.  Steve responded by reaching down and fumbling with his fly, raising his hips slightly to slide his jeans down. 

“Boxers - of course.”  Tony tugged the waistband lower, freeing Steve’s generously proportioned erection.  He gave it a few idle strokes, watching Steve’s eyes flutter shut.  “Still okay?”

Steve nodded, grunting something that sounded vaguely like “yeah.” Still sliding his hand up and down the length of Steve’s cock, Tony gently kissed his way from the base of the shaft to the tip, then flicked his tongue out over the exposed frenulum.  As Tony drew the tip into his mouth, bathing the velvety skin with his tongue, Steve groaned a low, appreciative sound.  Encouraged, Tony suckled gently, sliding more into his mouth.  He’d barely begun delivering what he was sure was bound to be one of the greatest performances in the history of fellatio, when Steve gasped a loud, “Oh!”  Tony made a hasty mental note that, contrary to his expectation, Steve’s semen tasted nothing like apple pie.

Sheepishly, Steve looked at Tony, who chuckled quietly.  “Sorry about that.  It’s been a while.” 

“Totally expected.  Well, okay, not totally.  I wasn’t sure if the super soldier serum might have given you more staying power.  JARVIS, please add the following notes regarding Captain America’s sexual response --” 

“TONY.”

“Alright.  Cancel that, JARVIS.”  Tony slid up Steve’s body.  “I’m guessing your super soldier body has a pretty brief refractory period, so we can try that again in a little bit.  Once your body adjusts to having me all over it, you probably won’t be quite so quick.”

Steve smiled hesitantly, a wave of shyness reasserting itself.  “So, Tony… when you say that I’ll adjust… you mean this wasn’t just a one-off thing, right?  I don’t want to misunderstand, and you have kind of a reputation…”

“I worked very hard for that reputation.  And I’m not proposing to you just yet, but... I was actually hoping you’d be interested in doing a whole lot of this sort of thing with me.  Because I’m interested in that, with you, and only you.  I’ve been working on this crazy - but scientifically plausible - theory that you bring out the best in me.”  Tony’s eyes had shed their cynical edge, allowing Steve a rare glimpse at a very sincere Tony Stark. He responded by pulling Tony into a long, breathless kiss, then carefully sat up, wrapping Tony in his arms and carrying him off to the bedroom, where he proceeded to demonstrate that, while he was no genius, he was a very quick study.  And the super soldier serum had indeed given Steve a seemingly endless supply of sexual energy. 

“JARVIS, please note, I was right about Cap’s refractory period.”

“Damn it, Tony.”


End file.
